


Pathfinder

by PetitAvocat



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Biotics, M/M, Pre-Relationship, kaidan is a janitor, lots and lots of biotics, sort of, younger shep and kaidan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitAvocat/pseuds/PetitAvocat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan's been running away from BAaT for years.  Shepard, like the headstrong part-krogan he is, throws himself in his path.<br/>--<br/>Inspired by a comment <a href="http://spicyshimmy.tumblr.com/">spicyshimmy</a> made about AUs and how they are always coffee shops and I thought about something silly like a janitor AU and then this happened?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crossing

**Author's Note:**

> slight AU where the Ascension Project started a few years earlier.
> 
> also takes some cues from _good will hunting_ , kind of obviously, oops

Shepard checked his ‘tool for the time.  _Shit_ , Lieutenant Calvert was going to have his balls.  He sped up to a jog, hoping he’d be able to make it across the station in the six minutes before lights-out.  As he passed the Observation Balcony he slapped his palm against the entrance on the off-chance it was unlocked – and nearly tripped over himself in his hasty reversal when the doors hissed open.  Cutting through the catwalk that bisected the large central gymnasium would shave off a few precious minutes.

Two-thirds of the way across the darkened gym, a small flying object appeared in his peripheral vision.  It was gone when he spun to look at it, jogging backwards, but just as he turned around again he saw it: one of their training balls shooting up in a straight line before falling back towards the ground.

_What the…_

Shepard actually stumbled this time, feet going in one direction and head still facing where the ball had appeared.  Was someone messing with the equipment?  His eyes strained in the darkness, but he managed to make out a figure wearing what looked like the janitorial uniform.  Seriously?  _Now_ , of all times?  Well, at least if he caught the guy he might be able to avoid the chewing-out he’d be getting otherwise.

Soundlessly, he swung over the railing and scaled the ladder down to the floor.  This would be a great time for that neat floaty-biotics trick the visiting asari had shown them last week – _too inexperienced my ass, I totally could have learnt it if she’d just given me the chance_.

He called over his shoulder as his feet hit the ground.

“Hey!  What the hell d’you think –”

His voice trailed off when he turned to look at the janitor.

Small bursts of biotic blue flashed every few seconds.  There were five – _five!_ – balls in the air, and not even the light ones; these were the 25-pound advanced training medicine balls.  The man had his back to Shepard, but it looked like he was… juggling seemed to be the best word for it.  As each ball fell towards the ground, he sent a small burst of biotic power to catch it and spike it back up into the air.  There was a graceful rhythm in the exercise, almost like he was conducting an orchestra.

Shepard had never seen anything like it.  And he wished he hadn’t spoken, because on hearing his voice, the man suddenly caught all five of the balls, gently _threw_ them back to the crate on the far side of the room, and ran.

“Wha—hang on, wait!”

He didn’t stop, so Shepard sent out a directed _pull_ at his legs.  They were yanked out from under him and he tumbled to the ground.  Shepard tackled him, holding him face-down to the floor.

“Who _are_ you?”

He suddenly found himself _thrown_ backwards, skidding a couple feet when he landed on his butt.  How did… he didn’t even do a mnemonic.  That wasn’t even supposed to be _possible_ for a human.

The man jumped to his feet and tossed a biotic field towards Shepard; his combat training kicked in – _Sergeant Vosker would be proud_ – and he rolled to avoid it, but apparently the janitor had mastered curving his fields because it followed without even wavering.  The impact staggered him, and then he found himself lifted just slightly off the ground in a gentle, humming _stasis_.  It wasn’t strong, but it held him, long enough for the janitor to take off through the doors at the far end of the gym.

He glanced back once as he ran, though, and Shepard got a look at his face in the blue glow of the _stasis_ field.  Startlingly young features looked back at him.  He couldn’t have more than a few years on Shepard himself, and he was only 19.  The man – kid, really, was more accurate – was handsome, dark wavy hair and brown eyes touched with blue from the fading remnants of his biotics.

Then he was gone, and Shepard focused himself.  Pressure points – one, two, three, and four, and _push_ outward – the field broke and he dropped lightly to his feet.

He took the ladder two rungs at a time and sprinted the rest of the way.  Eighteen minutes past curfew, and there was the Lieutenant, stern face, eyebrow raised, as if he was interested in hearing Shepard’s story for shits and giggles but wouldn’t buy it unless it involved the imminent invasion of the station by hostile forces.

No such luck.  Just an attractive janitor whose biotics had tingled in a really, really pleasant way against Shepard’s skin – and he wasn’t about to admit that to Lieutenant Hardass.

*            *            *

Kitchen duty for the next five days was not as bad as latrine duty for any amount of time.  They were old-fashioned punishments, but some things never changed.

And kitchen duty gave him a chance to talk to the cooks.

“Hey, Gardner.”

“Hmm?  You cut yourself again?”

He snorted.  “Such faith.  No, I was just wondering.  You guys, you know some of the cleaning staff around here, don’t you?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah.  Why, someone mess something up?”

“No, it’s not that.”  Shepard clarified hastily.  “I was just… I just wanted to know.  Are any of them biotics?”

Gardner looked at him like he’d asked if he should add hot sauce to the buttermilk flan.

“Uh, no.  If they were, kid, they’d be where you are, not cleaning up after you.”  He paused, eyes narrowing.  “Why do you ask?  You see something?  Hear something?”

“Nah.”  He shrugged nonchalantly and drummed his fingers on the cutting board.  “Just curious, is all.”

“Mm.”  It was clear he was still skeptical, but he let it drop.  “Watch you don’t let those potatoes burn.”

*            *            *

Okay, first line of questioning was a no-go, Shepard thought as he jogged to class.  He moved on autopilot as he considered his options, passing closed classroom doors spaced evenly down the long central corridor, ducking left down one of the smaller side halls.

Never seen the kid before in six months of being in the Ascension Project?  Not a problem.  He must’ve been around.  _Someone_ must’ve seen him.

He slid into his seat two minutes late, professor giving him an annoyed but unsurprised look.  History and Strategy of Close-Quarters Combat was as dry as ever – _get close, punch repeatedly, shotgun to the face; no strategy required_.  Good time for planning and taking stock of his assets.  What did he know?

The guy was young.  He’d never seen him in A-wing, where their practicals and common classes were, or in C-wing, where the weapons and armor training was for Vanguards – and the handful of overachieving Sentinels and Adepts who wanted the experience.  And Shepard wasn’t one of those privileged snobs who ignored the staff.  He said hi, asked how they were, even knew whether most of them had families and where – all made easier by how often he got put on cleaning duties – but he’d never, never seen this janitor.

And with those dark eyes and pouty lips?  Yeah, Shepard would remember if he had.

So, that left B-wing, the Sentinels’ tech-specific training unit.  And _that_ meant that Shepard had an inside source.

*            *            *

The dummy’s armor shredded as it toppled over under the force of his _warp_.  Cassie gave him an impressed look.  “Not bad, Johnny.”

“I told you, don’t call me that.”

“Uh-huh.”  She cocked her head at him, noticing – hands fidgety, shifting weight from one side to the other, poor eye contact, and _way_ disproportionate _warp_ ing for the size of the target.  Inefficient use of energy.  He was doing it all intentionally, of course.  He needed her intel, but _she_ was a sucker for gossip, and he knew she’d jump on the first sign of something out of the ordinary.  He felt a smug sense of pride when she sighed and said, “Alright.  What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

And there was his opening.  All according to plan.

“Cassie, this is gonna sound weird, but… do you know any of the janitors over in B-wing?”

A broad smile spread across her face.  “Aha.  I take it you’ve seen K.”

“…K?”  His heart rate spiked.  Progress?

“Young guy?  Tall, dark, and devastatingly attractive?”

Shepard felt his ears go pink.  “Well, yeah.”  It was as good a positive ID as any.  Definite progress.

Cassie executed her own _warp_.  Her dummy’s armor disintegrated neatly, and it teetered a little but didn’t fall.

“Everyone just refers to him as K, and he hardly ever says anything, never smiles, just nods at us. None of us know his full name.  Some of the girls have a running bet.  Kyle, Kevin, and Keith are the front-runners.  I think it’s something more exotic, like… I dunno.  Kilian, maybe.”

“And where does this mysterious K tend to spend his time?”

She laughed coyly.  “What makes you think I would know?”

Yeah, okay.  She wanted more information from him first, fair enough.

“Did you know he’s a biotic?”

Her smile vanished and she stared at him.  “What the hell?  No.  No way.  He should be in the program with us.  He’s young enough.  Are you sure, Shep?”

“Positive.”  He described what he’d seen in the gym, and she let out a low whistle.

“Five of them?  Shit, not even the top class can do that.”

“You gonna help me figure out his deal?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.  He’s one of the specialty staff, works with Drake.  Sorts broken omni-tools, cleans replacement amps.  Kinda makes sense, now.”

Shepard snapped his fingers.  “In the B-wing repair shop?”

“That’s the one.”

*            *            *

B-wing was unfamiliar, but the layout was close enough to the other wings that he found Drake’s small satellite workshop easily.  There was one in every wing, plus a central one off the mess, each staffed with an assistant.  Drake himself, an older human with an almost mystical understanding of biotics and tech, rotated wherever he was needed.

Shepard counted off the hallways, grabbed a railing and swung himself around the third corner on the right… and there he was.

Cap pulled low over his eyes, hands streaked with grease as he worked with a broken, sparking omni-tool.  His fingers were delicate as they pulled apart and reassembled the tiny mechanisms.  Shepard’s breath caught.

“Hey.”

He looked up from his work to give Shepard a small nod, but did a double-take when he saw who was standing there.  His eyes opened wide in surprise and the ‘tool crackled and hissed, his fingers fumbling over it.

“I’ll just get Drake –”  He got up from his chair, almost knocking it over… and oh, wow, why hadn’t Cassie mentioned that his voice was like dark chocolate, the hot kind, bitter and spicy and sweet all at once.  Shepard just managed to pull himself together before he disappeared into the back.

“No, wait.  I wanted to talk to you.”

The boy rubbed his wrist across his forehead, brushing away some sweat but carefully keeping the dirty smudges on his hands away from his face.  “I don’t think… you must be mistaken, sir.  I’m just an assistant.  I can’t help you.”

Shepard vaulted the counter.  Drake knew him well enough, he’d get a light chastising at worst.

“You go by K, right?”

He nodded, but took a step back.  His hands twisted, spreading the grease over his fingers even as he unconsciously held them away from his clothes.

He didn’t ask how Shepard knew his name, but he held eye contact.  Waiting.  His fight-or-flight instinct was evident in the tenseness of his arms and the way his eyes had darted to the three doorways in the room.

He was spooked.

Shepard was better at intimidation, usually.  He was bad cop, Cassie was good cop.  But he was drawn to the kid, like… like he was one of those magnetic brain scanner machines that Shepard had had to spend hours in the first time he started glowing blue, the ones where the doctors would have to search his pockets to make sure he didn’t forget any loose bit of scrap metal that might tear through his skin in its haste to escape.  And Shepard was the scrap metal.  Obviously.

So, with his best winning smile, he leaned back against the counter and spread his hands placatingly.  “Alright, K.  What’s a biotic like you doing in a place like this?”


	2. Lesson the First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaay biotics! i never felt like they were explored to their fullest potential in-game, so i may be stretching the canonical limits a little. hope it's not too much/too weird.

“Keep your voice down!” K hissed.  His fingers clenched tight around each other, knuckles showing white even through the grease. 

“Drake doesn’t know?”

“ _Nobody_ knows, except for you, now, and I would really prefer to keep it that way.”

“Why?”  Shepard was leaning forward, voice lowering unconsciously to match the quietness of K’s.

“…are you serious?  I don’t even know you.”

No, he didn’t, of course.  Shepard didn’t know what had made him ask that.  Rookie mistake.  He changed his tactics, tried for flattery instead.

“I’ve never seen anyone do what you were doing last night.”

Drake’s gruff voice floated out from the back room, laced with laughter.  “K, there something I should know?  Watch out for that one.”  He emerged, glancing at Shepard exasperatedly.  “He’s nothing but trouble.”

A faint blush had appeared on K’s skin, rising up from under his collar and sliding onto his cheeks from his temples.  “No, sir.  Just chatting.”

“Chatting?  Shepard, you learn some kind of asari hypnotic shit somewhere?  Nobody’s been able to get this one _chatting_ as long as he’s been here.”

“You know me, Drake.”  He boosted himself up to sit on the counter, swinging his legs jauntily.  “I’m a charmer.”

“Hey –” K made a grab for some small tools that were dangerously close to being sat on.  His fingers brushed Shepard’s and a tiny blue spark jumped between them.  They both jerked their hands away as Drake looked on in confusion.

“What the…”  He turned to K.  “Was that… are you…?”

Okay, time to do the quick-thinking thing.  K’s eyes had gone wide with panic as Drake’s narrowed, and Shepard pushed himself off the counter again, partially standing in front of K, shielding him from the old man’s suspicion.

“Just me, Drake.  Must’ve had some buildup, and the metal in the counter… you know how it is, I’m never careful enough around this stuff.  Accidentally shocked my mom’s cat once.  Thing wouldn’t let me within ten feet of it afterwards.”

Drake snorted and waved a hand dismissively, shuffling through the swinging door and calling over his shoulder.  “Yeah, okay.  ‘M gonna go make the rounds.  Don’t hurt my assistant, he’s the best one I’ve had in years.”

“So.”  Shepard turned around, facing the other boy.  His fingers were twisting again.  Shepard wondered if it hurt, if he was using the pain as a kind of Zen thing to keep himself grounded like Shepard used to do, pinching himself or biting the inside of his cheek or digging his nails into his palms – or if it was just a nervous habit, something to keep his hands busy like Shepard never seemed to be able to do often enough.

“Thanks.”

“I was serious about your moves last night.  I’ve never seen that kind of control before.”  At the word _control_ , K flinched; Shepard tried not to let him know he’d noticed.  “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I’d… rather not talk about it.”

Okay.  Okay, stop pushing, stop being impatient.

“Will you teach me?”

K cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing.  “I… I don’t think I’m the right person to do that.”

“Please!  I’m a really good student, I swear – at least in practicals, so as long as there are no writtens?  It’ll be great.”

K pulled his lower lip between his teeth, chewing lightly.  “What’s in it for me?”

Could he go the blackmail route?  Yeah, of course he could, and it would probably work.  But Shepard wasn’t being _bad cop_ this time, and that put him in a weak tactical position.  He tried for honesty, shrugging, not – for once – intentionally trying to be disarming.

“You… seem kinda lonely.”

The tools behind K suddenly needed organizing.  He muttered to them, Shepard straining to hear his low voice.

“’S not your problem.”

Shepard stepped closer.  “No, it’s not.”  K startled, muscles tensing with the surprise of Shepard’s nearness as he shot a warning look over his shoulder.  Shepard retreated to his starting point against the counter, already willing to play this game, do this dance of closer-farther, forward-and-back, if it kept the dark-haired boy comfortable.  “But maybe I can be a solution?”

There was that look again, wary and mistrustful.  K’s shoulders hunched over his work, away from Shepard.

“Okay.  Look… I have a free block right before lights-out, at twenty-two hundred hours.  I’ll be in the gym.  No obligation.”

He didn’t jump over the counter this time, just walked out the swinging door the same way Drake had.

“Either way, K, I won’t tell anyone.  Even if you don’t show.  I promise.”

*            *            *

Five balls.  Shepard lined them up on the floor – the baby 5-pound ones, just so he didn’t get a nosebleed before he’d even gotten started – and regarded them as if they were a particularly challenging puzzle.

Experimentally, he levitated one into the air with one hand.  So far, so good.  One more with the other hand – okay, splitting attention was a little more challenging, but he had this.  He tossed the one in his right hand up in the air… and cringed when the left one hit the floor with a thunk.

Take two.  Both balls in the air, check.  Toss ball one and stay focused on ball two –

Ball one flew straight up.  Ball two rocketed across the room and bounced off the far wall.  Too _much_ attention, clearly.

“You’re starting too big.”  A voice echoed across the empty gym, and Shepard spun to see K leaning against the wall behind him.

“Hey, Teach,” he grinned.  That blush crept across K’s features again, and something twisted in Shepard’s gut.  “I thought you wouldn’t show.”

“No promises after tonight.  It’s just a… trial run.”

Shepard nodded easily.  “Yeah, sure.”  He gestured to the balls.  “Too big?  These are the smallest we’ve got.”

K shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small object.  “Too big.”  A hacky-sack rested in his palm.  “Seen one of these before?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay.”  He started tossing the small toy from hand to hand.  “Watch what I’m doing.”  Tiny bursts of blue started flaring every time the beanbag neared one of his hands.  He was propelling it with biotics, not allowing it to actually touch his fingers before he sent it back to his other hand.

“…whoa.”

In spite of himself, K grinned back.  “I know, right?”  The blue fizzled out and he caught the toy, smile vanishing as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.  He coughed into his hand.  “Okay.  Back up.”

Shepard took a few steps back.  K shook his head.  “More.  I’ll tell you when.”  So he retreated, some weird hidden part of him wondering if this wasn’t a metaphor for _something_ , backing up slowly until they stood about twenty-five feet from each other and K signaled for him to stop.

“It’s easier if you start far apart.  Gives you more time to think, prepare before you have to react.”  He tossed the ball in his hand a couple times.  “We’re gonna start gentle.  Just lob it back and forth, nice and high.  If you have to use your hand, that’s okay, just keep the ball going.”

A blue spark was Shepard’s only warning.  The ball sailed through the air, and he focused, trying to feel his biotics flow through his right arm, backing up just like he had as an outfielder on his grade school’s baseball team.  His eyebrows squeezed together with concentration – if he ever put this much effort into his classes, his teachers would probably go into shock – and he knew he was glowing, using far more energy than he needed to.  But that was just like him, too, if he wasn’t under-achieving he was over-doing, throwing too much of himself into some things and not enough into others.

The ball neared his hand and he _pushed_ , feeling the fabric just brush his palm before it was flung back.  He realized instantly that he’d used far too much force, the toy shooting back towards K in a much higher, longer arc.  Easily, K reached up a hand and redirected it with a few short pulses before allowing it to drop towards him and then sending it back.

“Too much force, there,” he called, and then paused.  “Don’t focus on your whole body.  Think about your biotics as an extension of your hand.”

Shepard didn’t answer.  _Just my hand_.  He took a deep breath, trying to relax himself, and felt the whole-body glow fade a bit.  The ball fell towards him, and he brought his hand up with about the right amount of force he would need to send it back normally – but stopped his hand just short of connecting and tried to extend the force into his biotics.

There was a weak flare, and the ball flopped onto the ground halfway between them.

“That’s okay!  Better to work your way up.”

Giddiness washed over him at K’s encouragement.  When the ball flew towards him again, he tried to do exactly what he’d done before, only _more so_ , and let out a victory whoop, punching the air, when the hacky-sack arced perfectly into K’s hand.

K laughed, and Shepard just about melted.

As K tossed the ball back, he called out, “So… Shepard, right?”

Shepard waited until the ball reached him, and as he volleyed it back he responded.  “Yeah.”

“Vanguard?”  The soft rattle of the ball being sent back his way.

“Ha.  That obvious?”  A little too hard again, but not as bad as his first try.

“Yep.  Fast learner, though.”  K’s throw was still precise, but faster, and Shepard had to focus to be sure he could catch it in time.  The praise made his hand shake a bit as he tried to control his biotics in preparation for receiving the throw.

“You a Sentinel?”  His return was a little sloppy, but good enough.

“Were the omni-tools a giveaway?”

“They kinda were.”  On his next volley, Shepard tried to match K’s speed.  He nodded in satisfaction and caught the ball.

“Okay.  Ten feet closer.”

Shepard felt like he’d passed a very important test of some kind.

It was harder from this distance, and they talked less, Shepard needing to focus on his reflexes to send the ball back more accurately.  Eventually, K beckoned him another five feet closer and they tried again.  Shepard started off using his hands more often than not, but they fell into a rhythm, passing the ball back and forth.

“How old are you, K?”

K sighed and caught the ball.

“Twenty-two.”

The look on K’s face was too close to betrayal for Shepard’s liking.  He wanted to volunteer information about himself, even the playing field.  “I’m nineteen, just barely.  Got here six months ago.”  He stopped short of asking how long K had been there, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“I, uh… I should probably go.  You have a curfew, anyway.”

“Can we do this again?  Tomorrow?  I have this block free every day.”

“I can’t tomorrow.”  K ran a hand through his thick hair.  Shepard caught himself following the movement hungrily, and forced his gaze back to K’s eyes.  Not that it mattered – he wasn’t making eye contact anymore.

Pride was quickly taking a backseat to ensuring more time with K.  “What about the next day?  Is there anything you need?  Anything I can get you that would make this worth your time?”

“It’s… not that.  Maybe the day after tomorrow.  I don’t know.  I have to think about it.  Don’t come find me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, of course.  Anything.”  He wanted to swallow the word back as soon as he said it, K staring at him with some kind of disbelief etched on his features.  “I mean…”

“Here.”

He tossed the hacky-sack to Shepard, who caught it, bemused.  “But…?”

“I have others.  Practice with it.  See you around, Shepard.”  The gym door slid shut behind him.


	3. Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i promise i haven't abandoned my other canon story. i just got this plotbunny in my head and i have to see it through (at least for a little longer, at first i thought this was only gonna be 5ish chapters but uhhh it might end up being more? oops).

Shepard went to the gym the next day anyway, hoping that K would change his mind.

He didn’t.

But by lights-out at twenty-three hundred hours, Shepard was managing to toss the hacky-sack back and forth between his own hands with about a 75% success rate.  Every so often he would misjudge and send it flying across the room, or not react fast enough and hit it with his palm instead of his biotics – and by the end of his practice, he had a splitting headache – but his sense of achievement eclipsed all that.

And, if he’d been pressed, he might admit that he wanted to show off to his private tutor.

*            *            *

A tiny vibration on his omni-tool in Physics of Dark Energy, two days after he’d last seen K, signaled an incoming message.  For a thrilling split second, Shepard thought K might have found his messaging ID, and his heart pounded into his throat – but it was Cassie, of course, asking for updates on the mysterious staff member.

_\- Have you seen him again?_

_\- No.  He didn’t come last night._

Shepard paused, then typed again.  The trick to not getting caught was to look alert enough, but (especially in his case) not _too_ alert, so you didn’t seem like you were trying to hide something.

_\- You haven’t told anyone else about him, right?  I mean, about this._

_\- Of course not.  I know when to keep my mouth shut._

_\- Okay.  Good.  Thanks._

_\- …did he ask you not to tell anyone?_

_\- He might have._

_\- Ooh.  The plot thickens._

_\- Yep.  He said he might show tonight, but he needed to think about it._

_\- A second date already!_

Shepard managed to smooth out his expression just as the professor glanced over at him.  If he seemed emotionally invested in something during class… well, that was just obvious.

_\- NOT a date._

_\- Sure.  I bet he’s a great kisser._

And now all he’d be able to think about was K’s full lips and the way he tugged on his lower one when he was thinking, and how when he smiled it looked almost rusty, as if his lips hadn’t stretched that way in years.

He sat at the back of the classroom, tilting his chair back on its legs and refusing to rise to Cassie’s bait.  The chair jerked suddenly, like he’d tilted too far, only he had done this so many times he had the physics of chair-balancing worked out perfectly – _much better than the physics of dark energy, much more practical too_ – and there was no way he’d miscalculate like that.  His arms pinwheeled awkwardly as the chair stabilized, but the professor did nothing more than sigh and roll his eyes.

Shepard was about to make a comment – his trouble-making was usually much more sophisticated than this, he wasn’t a clown, thank you very much – when his chair jerked again.  This time he kept a hard grip on his seat to prevent too much flailing, and felt the telltale tingle of biotics against the small of his back.

He glanced around the classroom, pulse racing from nearly tumbling backwards of out his seat, but nobody was even watching him anymore.

Then his gaze passed over one of the long windows looking out onto the corridor.

K was leaning against the wall, looking disinterestedly down at his omni-tool.  He raised his head just slightly, blue glow ringing his pupils so faintly he might have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention, and caught Shepard’s eyes.  The ghost of a smile brushed over his lips, and then he was gone.

Shepard’s chair toppled backwards with a loud crash.

*            *            *

By the time Shepard had finished his detention – helping to clean the mess after dinner – and gotten to the gym, K was already there.  For a moment, before K noticed he wasn’t alone, Shepard just watched, appreciating the grace in the boy’s movements.

He had several balls in the air again, but instead of spiking them one at a time, he had constant biotic fields around each of them, and he was moving them all individually, drawing lazy, complicated, nonsense patterns in the air, the balls leaving faint blue tracers in their wakes.

One of the balls shot towards Shepard, and he reacted quickly, catching it heavily against his stomach.  When he looked up, another was rocketing towards his face.  He didn’t think, just shifted the first ball into one arm and threw up his hand, catching the second ball with his biotics about a foot away from his hand.

K set the other balls down gently and turned to face him.  “Good instincts.”  He looked like he wanted to smile but didn’t know if he was allowed, so Shepard smiled first.  K’s lips twitched, but he looked away, cutting off the smile before it bloomed.

“I’m glad you came by,” Shepard said.

There was a very long pause.  Then – “Thanks.”

“…for being glad?”

“No.  Well, yes, but also for… asking me to do this.  I’ve been here for over a year, and I haven’t… talked to anyone this much.”

“I’m sorry.”

K winced, turned away.  “Don’t pity me.”

“I never said I was.  I’m just sorry.  It sucks.”

One of the balls on the floor started rolling in small circles, K’s finger directing it slowly.  “…yeah.”

“You… you wanna talk about it?”

The ball stilled.  “No.”

“Okay.”

K waited a beat, then looked sideways at Shepard from under his eyelashes.  “…you’re not gonna push?”

“Why would I?  You wouldn’t tell me.  I mean, I’m… curious, sure.”  He held K’s eye contact, and decided to go for it.  “I’m curious _about you_.”

K blushed, and it made him want to move closer.  But he remembered what had happened the last time he’d moved closer without permission, before K had let him win some ground in their first lesson, and he stayed where he was.

Words were his best weapon here, and it was unfamiliar.  It made him feel powerless, not knowing whether the words he chose were the right ones, but he barreled on anyway.

“…and I figure, maybe you’ll want to tell me sometime.  Maybe if we keep… spending time together.  But even if you don’t?  That’s cool too.”  He rested a shoulder against the wall.

K was chewing his lip again, and Shepard fought down an impulse to reach out and soothe the bite area with his thumb.  He waited, shoving his hands in his pockets to have something to do.

“Thank you,” K said again, very quietly.  His tone said more, but Shepard didn’t know how to interpret it.

“Want to play ball?”  He produced the hacky-sack from his pocket and tossed it to himself a few times, wishing he had something _else_ to say, something more… empathic.  His mom always knew how to make him feel better, but turn the tables and he was lost, fumbling with apologies and empty words.

His heart sank as K shook his head, flashing him a tight, tired approximation of a smile.

“I’m not sure I’m up for teaching anything tonight.  I’ll stop wasting your time.  Maybe later.  Maybe… I don’t know.  I’ll find you.”

As he moved to leave, Shepard moved to block him.  “You’re not wasting my time.  We can… we can just talk.  About other stuff.  Whatever you want. …if you want.”

Caramel-colored eyes rose cautiously to meet Shepard’s, searching for something.  Shepard didn’t know if he had it, but he wanted to.  Wanted to be the one to give K whatever he’d lost, or fix whatever he’d broken, even though Shepard was usually the one losing and breaking things himself, carelessly, confident in his own harmless charm.

Finally, K lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged and looking up at Shepard.  Wordlessly asking him to stay.

Shepard slid down the wall to sit on the floor as well.  He rolled the hacky-sack gently to the other boy.  A gesture.  An opening, if he wanted it.

K lifted it, rolled it in his palm a few times, then nodded.

“Will you tell me about yourself?”

So Shepard did.  He talked about growing up with a single mom on a bunch of ships, how he’d been homeschooled and his friends were two fish he could keep in a small tank in the room he shared with a few other moms and their kids.  All younger than he was, all his responsibility when their parents were out doing their jobs.

He told K about how one of those kids’ moms had died in the field, and he’d started crying with the kid because he didn’t know what to say to make it better.  His own mother had to calm down two hysterical children instead of just the one.  He’d asked her to promise she would never leave him that way, but she had just smiled sadly and ruffled his hair, and he knew then that that was what had happened to his father.  Years later, she’d told him.  He never let her know that he knew so young.

As he talked, they rolled the ball back and forth along the ground, sometimes using biotics and sometimes their fingers.  K had shifted closer, still several feet away, but he was leaning forward, watching Shepard intently.  It made him self-conscious in a way that being the center of attention in a crowd never had.

He told the story of how his biotics manifested when he was an angry rebellious teenager, and K smiled for real for the first time that night.  When his story trailed off to an end, K opened his mouth.

“I was…”

Shepard held his breath.

K’s smile faded, but he didn’t stop.  “I was younger.  Younger than you were, I mean.  Scared my parents half to death.  Scared me more.  I… I was one of the first.”

Shepard knew, then, where K had gotten his biotic training.  He knew in the same way he’d known his father’s fate, and it must have shown, must have changed the pattern of his breathing, because his poker face was too good to give it away.  K gave him a different sort of look this time, challenging instead of questioning, but neither of them said anything.  Shepard didn’t ask for confirmation and K didn’t give it.

Instead, Shepard sent the ball back across the floor.  “It must have been hard.”

The ball rolled to a stop against K’s knuckles, and for a painful heartbeat they both stared at it and Shepard thought it was over.

But then fingers closed around it, and K pushed it back towards him.  “It was.”


	4. Warp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know when you start writing and you go in one direction with the story and then you come back to it the next day and decide you suddenly need a chapter-length detour before that direction you'd gone in before?
> 
> yeah, that.

One week of tutoring later, Shepard could play biotic hacky-sack from only a few feet away, the ball flashing between them rapidly enough that he only had time to react.  His biotics were coming faster and feeling more natural than they had in months of Ascension training.

K had also coached him through “juggling” two of the lightest training balls, keeping them both in the air for several minutes at a time.  Shepard felt like he could have done it forever, if he only had K’s husky voice there, giving him praise that made his toes tingle and the rare smile that clenched at his heart.

Before, after, and sometimes during, he would talk.  He told stories about himself, things he’d forgotten but wanted to share, as if offering pieces of himself would help repair whatever was broken deep within K.  He never revealed much in turn, but he had started making small comments, dropping tiny hints about his background.

He was earthborn, though Shepard didn’t know where.  He spoke about his parents in the plural, so at the least they were both around for much of his childhood.  He preferred cats to dogs, and he liked whiskey and beer.  He had enjoyed math and physics in school, because they made sense to him.

They sat closer when they talked now, K joining him, their backs against the wall and their shoulders just not-brushing; K didn’t look at him directly, but Shepard knew he was watching out of the corner of his eye.  His fingers twisted constantly, and Shepard wanted to reach out and still his hands, but they weren’t there yet.  Maybe they wouldn’t ever be.

On the eighth night, K didn’t come.  Shepard waited for an hour and a half, right up until the last moment before curfew.  For his stubbornness he had to sprint down the halls, skidding into the sleeping quarters seconds before the clock ticked over to 2331.  Calvert just gave him a dirty look and retreated to his private quarters, disappointed that no punishment could be levied on him tonight.

He knew that K had told him not to come looking, but he did anyway, as soon as he had a free moment the next day.  Drake was sitting where K had been that first time.  He raised an eyebrow as Shepard approached.

“You looking for him?”  At Shepard’s nod, he gestured to the back room.  “He’s not doing so great.  Lights are off, so watch you don’t knock anything over.  Tiptoe, and keep your damn voice down.  You make that boy any worse, I’ll have the book thrown at you so hard you won’t be able to see straight for weeks.”

For a second Shepard just gaped.  He’d never heard Drake speak that harshly before, the old man usually full of sarcasm and good-natured mocking.  It was something about K, he realized, because he saw it happening even in himself; the dark-haired boy was so gentle and quiet that Shepard ached to protect him, help him, shield him from everything caustic and grating in the world.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Migraine.  My ma used to get them.  Dark and quiet are about the only things you can do when they get bad.”  Drake shook his head frustratedly.  “Even with today’s medicine…”

Shepard suspected that it was more than your standard migraine, but he didn’t comment, just made his way into the darkened back room.  He carefully picked through the stacks of boxes and tools to the human-looking shape curled up on a small cot in one corner.

When he sat on the edge of the bed, K made a small muffled noise of protest.  Shepard lowered his voice as much as he could.

“Hey, it’s me.”

K’s fingers tightened in the pillow he was clutching.  “No, Shepard… g’way…”

“Shh.”  Actions belying his nervousness, he slid his fingers into K’s hair.  The immediate reaction was a whimper, K shrinking towards the wall, but he started massaging soothing circles into the boy’s scalp.  Gradually he relaxed.  His whimpers turned into low, satisfied groans, and he twisted his body so he was facing Shepard instead of the cool plaster of the wall, nuzzling his head into Shepard’s hands insistently.

Shepard stifled a smile, even though K’s eyes were closed.

His dark hair felt as amazing as Shepard had imagined, thick and just slightly coarse against his fingers, and the weight of his head in Shepard’s hands – literally _and_ figuratively; the trust it implied to allow him this intimate gesture did not go unnoticed – was comforting and humbling all at once.

Very slowly, K’s breathing evened out.  His head was resting on Shepard’s lap, the Vanguard having shifted at some point to lean his own back against the wall.  He absently continued the massage.  Probably unnecessary, but it felt good.  Hopefully for both of them.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been there when K’s legs started moving.  His hands were fisting and relaxing, feet twitching, and he was groaning again.  For half an awkward, terrified second, Shepard thought he was having a sex dream, but it quickly became clear that the groaning was out of pain rather than pleasure as K started crying in his sleep, fingers curling into the fabric of Shepard’s trousers.

Shepard knew he was in way over his head.  Should he get Drake?  Had the old man helped with things like this before?  Or would K never speak to him again if he got someone else involved?  He didn’t even know if K would speak to him again knowing that _he’d_ been there and witnessed this.

He started the massage again, hoping that it would lull him back to his peaceful sleep, but he just whimpered, shaking his head against Shepard’s fingers.

“ _Rahna_.”  More quiet sobbing.

…what?

Shepard froze.  Of course there would be a girl.

Something deep in his chest was starting to twist uncomfortably, pound erratically, and there was a sharp stinging behind his eyes.  But he kept massaging.  K’s cautiousness around other people, his hesitance to reveal anything about himself… it spoke of rejection and exclusion and pain, and Shepard would never let himself be the cause of more pain for this boy.

Slowly, K calmed again, falling into a deeper sleep.  With as much care as he could, Shepard extracted himself from K’s grasp, pulled the thin blanket up to his shoulders, and brushed the wet tear-trails from his cheeks.  Then he left.

*            *            *

“Sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday.”

Shepard glanced up from his position on the floor, and spoke without thinking.

“You mean you don’t remember?”

A lightning string of emotions flashed across K’s face – confusion, surprise, panic, anger.

“You saw me.  You were there.”

“It… looked pretty bad, K.  I didn’t want to leave you.”

“You were never supposed to see that.”  His voice was almost a whisper.

Shepard looked away, unsure how to respond.  The easy conversation they’d built up seemed to be crumbling, no obvious way to save it.

“I’m sorry,” he tried.

“You’re sorry?  I should be apologizing.  I never… I didn’t want you to see me like that.  Weak.”

That word pulled Shepard to his feet.  “Weak?  You were in so much pain, _so_ much, and you’re here as if nothing happened.  That’s not weak.”

K looked lost, so he kept talking, hoping that the next word he said wouldn’t be the one that went too far and crossed _that_ line.

“It’s because of your implants, right?  I didn’t think, when you said you were one of the first, but… you’re an L2, aren’t you?”

A slow nod.

“How often do you get them?”

“…now, about once every week or two.”

Shepard didn’t ask about _then_.

He also didn’t ask about Rahna.

He did ask: “Are we – I mean, is this making it worse?  You helping me?”

K was quick to shake his head.  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.  I… used to do a lot more than this, every day.  My implants can take quite the, uh.  Beating.”

“Right.”

There was an awkward pause.  K started moving towards the door.  “I, uh, you know.  I should probably…”

“I don’t want you to go – ” Shepard cringed at himself – “I mean, I really like talking to you.  Even if you’re not feeling up to biotic stuff, you could… stay.”

His hand was hovering over the opening mechanism, but he paused.  Looked over his shoulder.

“You… gave me a…” His cheeks flushed.  “A head massage.”

Shepard’s ears burned.  “I um.  I hope that’s okay.  It seemed like it helped.”

“Yeah.  I mean, it did.  Thanks.”  A bitter laugh.  “Seems like I’m thanking you a lot.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

K let out a shuddering breath.  “Maybe not.  But… you’ve given a lot of yourself.  So maybe I can give you something back.”

“K, you don’t have to –”

“My name is Kaidan Alenko.”  He held out his hand.

Shepard barely hesitated, despite his pulse spiking in his veins.  “John Shepard.”

They shook.


	5. Slam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm sure most of y'all probably don't care but i just got a dA account: http://petitavocat.deviantart.com/  
> and i've posted some fluffier drabble-type things over there (i'm not sure how strict they are about the no-porn literature, so i'm playing it safe)... check it out if you're interested :)  
> and if not obvs i will keep posting here too! :D
> 
> /self-promotion
> 
> on with the story! ^^

Kaidan ( _Kaidan, Kaidan_ , Shepard repeated to himself, loving the way the name echoed in his head) watched him apprehensively for a moment. 

“You don’t… recognize my name?”

Shepard shuffled awkwardly, hoping he wasn’t famous somehow, or related to someone famous.  “Um, no.  Sorry. Should I?”

The astonished and grateful expression on Kaidan’s face told him that no, lack of recognition was just fine.

“I thought everyone would, especially here.  Thank you.”  He hiccupped a laugh.  “Again.”

“Hey.”  Shepard allowed himself to reach out, for once, resting his hand against Kaidan’s for a moment, sharing the warmth of skin-to-skin contact.  “No need.  And… no pressure, but if you ever want to talk about it?  I’m here.”

Kaidan smiled and quickly, too-casually swiped his palm across his eyes.  “Yeah.  I know.  Right now, though… I’d rather do some training, if you’re okay with it.”

“Sure.  Yeah.  Anything.”  There was that word again, but he didn’t try to swallow it back down like he had the first time.

“So, uh, you want to keep with the ball… juggling… thing –” Kaidan gestured vaguely with his hands – “or start on something else?”

“Actually, I’ve kind of been wondering…” Shepard bit his lip, trying to suppress his self-conscious grin at what he was about to ask.  “Can you levitate yourself?”

To his stunned surprise, Kaidan laughed, all somberness gone.  It felt like the room had been pumped with oxygen suddenly, Shepard feeling lightheaded at the genuine humor shining in the Sentinel’s eyes as, still smiling, he executed a quick mnemonic, glowed blue, and floated a few inches off the floor.

Shepard couldn’t hide his glee, clapping his hands and laughing himself – _so dizzy but wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything_.

“Can you do that any higher?”

“Sure.  Takes some effort, though.”

“…can you float other people?”

“It’s easier, actually.  That’s how we learned at…”  He trailed off.  It was the first time he’d come close to saying that name.  They both knew things would change when he did, because there were questions that Shepard would ask – would have to ask, was even expected to ask.  Everyone had heard the stories.

Kaidan took a breath and amended: “…that’s how I learned.”

“Will you levitate me?”  Shepard knew his eyes were huge, wide with childlike excitement.  This had been one of the first things he’d thought of when he found out he was a biotic, and he’d spent ages trying, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself into the air, but he had never managed it.

Kaidan considered him for a moment, soft smile still playing around the corners of his mouth.  Then he nodded.

“Okay.  It might… feel weird.”

Shepard tried to stand still, fighting an urge to bounce on his toes.  Kaidan glowed again, and Shepard felt a gentle pressure on his right forearm, almost asking permission.  He breathed evenly, forcing himself to relax as the pressure spread up his arm and a matching pressure ran up his left arm.  The tendrils met across his shoulderblades, almost in an embrace, and a frisson ran through him as he felt the biotic thrum get stronger.  Kaidan extended his biotics more, and like a warm shower, the pressure washed over the rest of his body, sliding around his legs and gently brushing the buzzed hair on his head.

He looked down to see himself wrapped in a glowing corona, though for the first time not his own.  Kaidan’s biotics were darker: navy where his were a brighter royal blue.

“Ready?”  The low voice broke through his thoughts, and he met Kaidan’s eyes again.

“Ready.”

Another, slightly different mnemonic that Shepard didn’t quite catch – and his feet lifted off the floor.  Kaidan grinned, responding to the look of wonder on Shepard’s face.

“Everything you hoped it would be and more?”

“You know it.”

Something like heat smouldered behind Kaidan’s eyes for an instant before he pushed it down, and gently lowered Shepard back to earth, dizzy with the thrill of freedom from gravity.

His biotics lingered for a moment on Shepard’s skin before he allowed them to fizzle out, and Shepard remembered one of his first lessons.  He threw caution to the wind – he was hardly in a place to think right now, anyway, almost drunk with giddiness, and he felt close to the other boy.  He wanted to be closer.

“So, Kaidan.”  He thrilled at the way the name tasted, rolling around his mouth and falling off his tongue, the most natural thing in the world.  “If biotics are like an extension of your body… were we just cuddling or something?”

It was a testament to their long, late-night conversations that Kaidan’s smile didn’t disappear, and he didn’t retreat within himself.  In fact, quite the opposite happened.

“Hey, you asked for it.”

Shepard laughed breathlessly.  “I guess I did.  Is it, uh… is it weird if I want to ask for it again?”

His smile did disappear then, but the playfulness around his eyes stayed.  He stepped closer.  They were barely a foot apart, the closest they’d been face-to-face, and Shepard noticed things – tiny, nonsense, incongruent things like the freckles above one of his eyebrows and the scar that cut through his top lip and the way his eyelashes curled up just slightly at the ends.

“Not weird.”

Shepard had almost forgotten he’d asked a question.

Kaidan’s eyes glowed an unearthly blue.  The gentle pressure was back, only it was a bit less gentle this time, and it moved faster, curling around his fingers first, brushing the sensitive skin of his palms, and then twining up his arms and across his back again.  He felt warmer this time, as if Kaidan was pressed up against him, and the thought made his breath hitch.

Kaidan’s biotics slid down his spine.  His mouth fell open on an exhale and he shivered violently, almost feeling Kaidan breathe out with him.  Even through the blue glow he could tell the other boy’s pupils were dilated.  The pressure built, and with a sudden _crack_ Kaidan flared bright, biotics lighting up the gymnasium, dancing over Shepard’s skin as well and then doubling in intensity as his own biotics responded, sparking and flashing without his permission.

Kaidan was up against the wall before Shepard was aware of his own movements.  Their lips crashed together, Shepard’s hands fisting in Kaidan’s shirt, Kaidan’s holding his waist, and for a blissful moment Shepard’s mind was blank, reeling in sensation.

Then he came back to himself – _what the fuck are you doing_ – and pulled away, stumbled a few steps backwards, breathing harshly.

“I’m so sorry – I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t even ask –”

“Shepard.”  His voice was impossibly rough.  “It’s fine.  It’s –” he laughed, a little hysterically – “it’s really more than fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Kaidan looked as though his legs might give out if he didn’t have the wall supporting him – which was good, Shepard thought, because he felt the same way (and he didn’t even have a wall; who knew how he was staying upright) – although it was only good if they felt the same way for the same _reasons_ , and how would he know if Kaidan wanted to do that again as much as he did, maybe his legs were giving out because of shock and surprise and not in the good way –

Kaidan’s voice cut through his thoughts.  “John.”  His face twisted uncertainly.  “Can I call you that?”

“Anything.”  The way he breathed it, he knew he was making promises that were far too heavy for where they were – and for what Kaidan had asked, really – but that word kept spilling from his lips, and even if it was too heavy, too much, too soon, he meant it.

Kaidan blushed, reached out, paused, let his hand fall back by his side.  “John.  I should…”

“…go.  Yeah.  I know.”

“It’s not –”

“No, it’s fine.”  Selfish.  Too _selfish_ , damn it; no matter how hard he tried to back off, go slow, he always pushed for too much too fast.  It was sometimes a good thing, but… usually not.  “I mean, I probably should too.  Curfew.”  He scratched his blunt nails across the back of his head, brushing his amp jack absently, and offered an apologetic smile to Kaidan.  “See you.”

Kaidan was still resting against the wall.  “Yeah.  See you.”

Shepard scaled the ladder to the catwalk and jogged to the door at the end, forcing himself not to look back to see if whiskey eyes were following him.


	6. Nova

A day went by without contact from Kaidan, then two, then three, and then nearly a week had passed with no word.  Shepard felt restless.  He threw himself into practicals, snuck out to train more on his own, but for all that his instructors praised his progress, it felt empty.

He’d pushed too hard and lost something he didn’t even have in the first place.  He suspected he owed Kaidan an apology, but had no idea where to begin, or whether he should even try to get in touch with the boy.

Cassie confronted him about it once.  _Look at you, mooning over this guy!  You hardly know him, Johnny_.

He’d bristled, said he wasn’t _mooning_ over anyone and told her to mind her own business.  She just gave him a knowing look.  One of those irritating ones that said she wouldn’t _say_ anything else, but would roll her eyes at him at every opportunity.

Good thing for him that he’d become nearly immune to Cassie’s eye-rolls very early on in their friendship.

It was nine days later – nine days after their kiss, which Shepard was trying desperately and unsuccessfully to forget – that he was on his way to lunch and suddenly found himself yanked backwards, _biotically_ , into an empty classroom.

The door slammed and he turned, breathless and heart pounding with surprise, meeting a honey-brown gaze he’d thought of every day and every night.

He opened his mouth to say something, apologize, beg forgiveness, ask to go back to the way they were before he’d bollocksed it up, but Kaidan held up a hand.

“I know you’re about to apologize, but… you shouldn’t be.  I’m sorry, John.  I got scared.  I haven’t been close to anyone in a very long time, and last time, it didn’t end well.  But that doesn’t mean – I mean, these past couple weeks.  I’ve enjoyed talking to you.  Getting to know you.  Being your… friend?”

The look he gave Shepard was so full of uncertainty he was floored.  All he could do was nod vigorously, not wanting to interrupt but _needing_ Kaidan to know that yes, he could call Shepard a friend.

Kaidan took a deep breath.  “Okay.  So, good.  And, I’d really like to _keep_ being your friend, and maybe…”  His cheeks tinged charmingly.  “…well, you know.”

Shepard grinned.  He couldn’t help himself.  And the small, sweet smile he got in return was absolutely the _best_ thing.

“I’m really, really glad to hear that, Kaidan.  So… when will I see you again?”

“Um.  Tonight?  Do you, uh.  You know that big set of windows at the end of the hall in A-wing?”

“…yes…”

“Okay.  Meet me there.”

With no further explanation, Kaidan flashed him another smile, and then darted out the door and was gone.

*            *            *

Needless to say, Shepard was not able to focus on much else that day.  Everything blurred into hours of boredom while he tried to figure out why Kaidan would ask him to meet at the windows.  It was bound to be deserted that late at night, but it was… curious, to say the least.

His last block finally let out, and he hurried to the head, splashing water on his face quickly.  He made his way through the dimmed hallways, and by the time he got to the windows, Kaidan was there, silhouetted against the starlight.

Growing up in space didn’t make it any less beautiful.  Briefly, Shepard wondered how disorienting it must be for someone earthborn to adjust to the constants of empty space and starlight.  He wondered how well Kaidan had adjusted.

“…hey.”

He turned, and gave Shepard a crooked smile.  “Hey.”

“…uh.  I’ve gotta ask…”

Kaidan’s smile widened.  “Why here?”  At Shepard’s nod, he pointed upwards.  Shepard glanced up, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary – a bank of windows, long and rectangular and stacked on each other, roughly six inches between them.  They were set into the wall, a ledge wide enough to sit on at the bottom of each.

“I… don't get it.”

“You wanted to learn to levitate, right?”

“I – yes, but…”

“Okay.  So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“That’s fine.  You’ll catch on.”  He was still smiling.  “Here’s the mnemonic.”  His hands moved, one after the other, in small quick circular motions.  “Go ahead, no biotics.”

Shepard tried to mimic him, and after a few attempts and minor corrections – he almost considered doing the mnemonic wrong intentionally, if it meant he’d get Kaidan’s gentle hands on his forearms, guiding him through the motions – he was doing it reasonably well.

“Good.  Now, try with biotics, on me.  Reach out with yours until it feels like you’ve, uh –” he cleared his throat – “like you’ve got me, and then lift me a few inches.”

“You actually trust me to wrap you in dark energy without accidentally tearing you apart on a molecular level?”

Kaidan ducked his head and glanced up at Shepard from under his lashes.  “You’re a fast learner,” he murmured, and how could Shepard say no to _that_?

He concentrated on the feel of his biotics, so much more controlled than they were even a month ago, and tentatively tried to reach out to Kaidan.  His royal blue glow began winding around Kaidan’s arms, less gentle than Kaidan had been with him, he was sure, but from the way the other boy’s eyes slid closed at the contact…

Shepard had to force himself to breathe steadily and stay focused, and _not_ think about the way Kaidan’s dark eyebrows were furrowing, or the way his lips had parted.

After a few seconds he’d managed to wrap Kaidan in his biotics.  The Sentinel opened his eyes and gave Shepard an encouraging smile.

“Good.  And now the mnemonic.”

To his amazement, Kaidan lifted off the ground on his first try.

“V-very good.”  It sounded like Kaidan was trying to keep his own voice steady.  “Hold it for a few seconds, if you can.”

It was actually much less difficult than Shepard had imagined it would be, holding Kaidan there, six inches off the ground.  After a minute or so, he lowered him back down and let his biotics dissipate.

“That was – really good, John, _really_ good.  Better than I expected, honestly.  Do you think you can try to lift me up there?”  He pointed at a window ledge about halfway up the wall.  Shepard swallowed.

“That’s… I mean, what if I drop you?”

Kaidan chuckled softly.  “I’ve got biotics too.  I can catch myself.”

“Um.  Okay…”

He reached out again, and slowly, very slowly and very steadily, starting lifting Kaidan to the ledge.  When he was level with it, Shepard guided him closer until he could safely slide onto it, and then let his biotics go.

He wiped a hand across his forehead and it came away a bit sweaty, but he grinned up at Kaidan, who was cheerfully kicking his legs against the wall.

“Should I, uh, try to float myself up?”

“Nah,” and oh, wow, where had _that_ smirk been hiding all this time, “I’ve got you covered.”  Kaidan swung his arm above his head a few times like he had an invisible lasso, as if he was one of those old Earth cowboys from the vids, and then sent the “lasso” towards Shepard, who found himself suddenly enveloped in Kaidan’s glow again.  With another smirk, Kaidan started reeling in his invisible rope, and Shepard gracefully soared up to join him.

“…nice trick.”

Kaidan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, and the lighting was pretty dim, but Shepard would swear he was blushing, just a little.

“I haven’t done that in a long time.”  He nudged Shepard’s shoulder with his own.  “Thanks, John.”

“For?”  Shepard nudged him back.

“You bring out this side of me.  I remember that I actually enjoy laughing.  Goofing around.  It’s… really nice.”

“I enjoy you laughing too.”

Kaidan watched him for a few moments, and then leaned in quickly, pressing a kiss to Shepard’s cheek.  Then he was grinning again and getting up – “First one to the top wins!” – and off, using the ledge to pull himself up to the next window.

“Oh, that’s not fair!”  Shepard clambered to his feet and chased after him.

They reached the top window ledge, breathless and laughing and sore-armed.  Kaidan leaned back against one side of the window’s enclave, and Shepard scooted forward, closer to him, curling one knee underneath himself and hugging the other to his chest.

He rested his head against the window and watched Kaidan’s face in the starlight, and thought that he could probably stay here, in this secret private place with this secret private person, forever.

Kaidan was gazing out the window, and then blinked, refocusing on Shepard and smiling, just a little, twisting his fingers together in his lap.  Before he could think about it, Shepard gave into his impulse, reached out and rested his hand on top of Kaidan’s, and somehow wasn’t all that surprised when Kaidan’s fingers twisted into his own, clinging to his hand like a lifeline.  He rubbed small circles into Kaidan’s hand with his thumb, watching Kaidan watch their fingers.

“I was at BAaT.”

Shepard didn’t stop rubbing, didn’t look away.  Didn’t say anything.

“They had a… turian commander come in and train us.  Vyrnnus.  Hated humans.  Hated _me_.  It was mutual.”

Kaidan glanced up, and seemed to be reassured by Shepard’s steady gaze.

“I… there was… a girl.”  Rahna.  Had to be.  “We were close.  We… there might have been something there, I mean.  We kissed, a few times.”  He sighed, and squeezed Shepard’s hand between his.  “One day she reached for a glass of water.  She was thirsty, exhausted, hell, we all were.  But she didn’t use her biotics and Vyrnnus got pissed.  Broke her arm.  I… stood up.”

Shepard forced himself to stay calm, to resist showing the anger that threatened to boil over.  He sensed where this was going, the pieces falling together as he connected what he’d heard as a kid, all the rumors and whispers that were hushed up among the military brass, with what Kaidan was telling him.

“He shoved a military-issue Talon in my face.”  Shepard’s eyes dropped automatically to the scar on Kaidan’s lips, and he smiled wryly.  “Yeah.  Nice souvenir I got out of it.”  He slowly started tracing light patterns onto Shepard’s hand.  “I let loose.  Full-power biotic kick in the teeth.  I… felt his neck snap, John.”

A deep, calming, well-practiced breath, then he continued.  “They shut BAaT down pretty soon after that.  Nobody would talk to me, look at me after that happened.  We were all sent back to Earth, and… I drifted for a while.  When I went back home, a couple years ago – well, my dad’s Alliance.  He got me this job.”

Shepard was furious.  At everything.  At the corporations that orchestrated “accidental” eezo exposures.  At the ignorant people who shuttled kids off-planet, separated them from their parents and threw them in with an alien with a grudge.  At Vyrnnus.  At whoever had looked at Kaidan and branded him a killer, at everyone who’d abandoned and rejected him.

 _Furious_ was how he coped, but Kaidan didn’t need _furious_ right now.  He didn’t need righteous anger or indignation.  He was speaking calmly.  He’d processed this already, by himself, and as much as Shepard wished he could have been there to help, Kaidan needed something else.  And Shepard wished he knew what it was.

“Kaidan, I don’t know what to say.”  He twined his fingers more tightly with Kaidan’s, as if doing so would keep the other boy here, with him.

“You don’t have to say anything.  I’m… over it.  Or, mostly over it.”  He paused and chuckled, a little self-deprecatingly.  “Well, I’m _getting_ over it.  But I didn’t tell you because I need anything from you.  I just… I haven’t told anyone since my parents, five years ago.  I haven’t wanted to tell anyone, but I wanted to tell you.”

“Thank you.”  He’d blurted the words before he could think about them and he immediately wanted to take them back, sure it was the wrong thing to say.  But Kaidan just nodded, looking at their hands again.

“And thank you.  For still being here, even after hearing all that.”

“I’m not going anywhere.  And I doubt anything you say is going to change that.”

Kaidan blinked quickly a few times, staring out the window.  They sat silently for a while, Shepard’s hand still resting in Kaidan’s lap.  His fingers were going a little bit numb but he had no desire to readjust.

Then Kaidan turned back to him abruptly, brushing at his eyes with one hand – and Shepard’s hand, sandwiched between Kaidan’s, suddenly felt cold – and biting his lip.

“I – this is probably weird.  But can I try something?  I mean – can _we_ try something?”

Shepard shrugged.  Weird was fine.  “…yeah, sure.”

“Okay.  Sit up on your knees – here, like this – and put your hands up.”  He demonstrated, kneeling and holding his hands up, palms facing out.  Shepard mirrored him, and he shuffled closer, until their palms were just barely _not_ brushing.

“Activate your biotics, low-level.”

Shepard did, and so did Kaidan.

“Alright.  Hold still.  It’s been a _really_ long time since I’ve done this.”

“Should I be worried?”

“…I hope not?” Kaidan laughed, and it was amazing how easily that low chuckle made everything right in the world.

He felt Kaidan extend his biotics, lacing them through his own, starting with his palms and sliding down his arms to the rest of his body.  It felt… _good_ , but a little discordant, feeling someone else so intimately but so differently merging with his biotic field.  Kaidan closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, concentrating, and something shifted.

Something shifted _impossibly_.

The frequency of Kaidan’s biotics was changing.  Shepard had no idea how he was doing it, but what started out feeling like a hum that was deeper than his own biotics, offset just a little, was changing, slowly climbing up the register, and Shepard felt the tiny hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raise, something high-pitched settle behind his teeth in anticipation, his eyes wide and mouth open and gasp stuck in the back of his throat as Kaidan rose closer and closer and – oh, _FUCK_ –

When Kaidan hit his frequency it was a goddamn explosion, like the entire galaxy whirled between them and knit them together.

The gasp tore out of his throat, turning into a desperate groan, his hands making contact with Kaidan’s and their fingers twining together automatically.  Blue flares arced between their hands.  Kaidan was panting and Shepard was _hard_ , turned on beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

Kaidan moved first, yanking Shepard close and guiding one of his hands to his neck, keeping the fingers of their other hands linked and wrapping that arm around his waist, effectively pinning Shepard’s hand to the small of his own back.  Kaidan hesitated for the briefest instant, mouth hovering over Shepard’s, and then closed the distance.

It was perfect.  Hot.  Demanding.  Shepard was melting, Kaidan’s lips on his the only thing he could focus on.  He tangled his fingers into Kaidan’s hair and pressed his body closer and when Kaidan moaned into his mouth his hips involuntarily rolled forward, seeking friction and finding it in an answering thrust.

Kaidan broke the kiss, Shepard’s teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he pulled away, and they gazed at each other for a few moments in a breathless daze.

“I don’t want to stop doing this,” Kaidan whispered.

“Me neither.”

“But… I don’t think I can do any _more_ than this.  I mean, tonight.  And maybe – maybe for a while.  Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.  That’s fine, Kaidan, whatever you want –” Kaidan finally seemed to realize that he was holding Shepard’s hand behind his back and let go, and Shepard flexed his fingers and brought his freed hand up to cup Kaidan’s jaw – “I just don’t want to lose you.”

_Shit, too much, too much, too much –_

The soft kiss Kaidan pressed to his lips said that no, it hadn’t been too much.

“Come here.”  Kaidan settled back against the wall again and stretched his legs out, tugging at Shepard’s hands until he followed, guiding him to straddle his legs and then tilting his head up to capture Shepard’s lips.

This time it was slower, almost languorous, Shepard’s hips instinctively moving in little circles against Kaidan’s as he let one hand trail down.  His fingers grazed over Kaidan’s throat and traced the bob of his Adam’s apple, brushed the dip between his collarbones.  He followed the path of his fingers with his mouth, got a low purr in response, and couldn’t help smiling against Kaidan’s neck.

They stayed there for a long time, gently exploring each other, tips of fingers dipping under shirts, into waistbands, beneath collars, rocking together to stay on the edge of pleasure just short of need but no less intoxicating.

Shepard was well past curfew that night, but his lips were bitten and his cheeks were flushed and even latrine duty could not wipe the smile off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sdfkl;s;dfkjd you guys i'm so sorry for ridiculous delays. i promise that i have not abandoned this story or my other one, FttC, writing is just going super slowly for me these days. i get distracted easily by shiny new ideas -_-
> 
> so i'm not sure when the next update will be but it WILL happen, and thank you so so much to all you wonderful people who are still reading this. xoxoxo


	7. Reave

“So… what are you gonna do?”

They’d met at their windowledge every night for the past two weeks.  Shepard could float Kaidan more than three-quarters of the way up, now, and could levitate himself almost to the halfway point.

At his question, Kaidan lifted his head from where it rested on Shepard’s chest, fingers carding through his hair gently.

“What do you mean?

“I mean… you’re not gonna stay here forever, are you?”

Kaidan shrugged one shoulder, settling back down against Shepard.  “I hadn’t really thought about it. … why do you ask?”

“You’re a great teacher.”

A long moment of silence, and then – “I’m not that good.”

“You taught me more in a few weeks than the Alliance did in months.”

Kaidan turned his head up again, angling himself just enough to be able to meet Shepard’s eyes.  “That’s just because you were more motivated with me.”

Shepard grinned, sliding his hand down to Kaidan’s hip, fingers splaying over his crotch but keeping his touch feather-light.  “You do tend to make me… _rise_ to the occasion.”  He thrust his hips forward a little, jostling the other boy.  Kaidan laughed and turned, bracing his arms on the cool ledge on either side of Shepard’s hips, leaning up to kiss him.

“You’re twelve, I swear,” he murmured against the Vanguard’s mouth.  For his part, Shepard could only manage a muffled _mmnh_ of agreement as he slid down the side of the enclave to lie flat on his back, pulling Kaidan on top of him.

Inevitably, their quiet talking devolved into this every night.  Positions changed, and the tone varied from night to night – passionate, desperate, sensual, lazy, playful – but this, the need to touch, to be close to each other?  It never went away.  It was a constant for Shepard, under his skin and whispering in his ear, filling the empty spaces of his days with memory and anticipation and never enough.

Tonight, as Kaidan kissed him, mouth tracking from Shepard’s lips to his jaw, hand pulling Shepard’s thigh around his waist and hips rolling _just_ right into Shepard’s, it was perfect and bittersweet.

It was ending.

Shepard rolled them over – _carefully_ , lest they roll off the ledge entirely – and propped himself up on a forearm, breaking off the kiss even as Kaidan’s hands continued to slide along his bare skin underneath his shirt, fingers teasing at his waistband but never dipping _quite_ low enough.

“Kaidan, I need to talk to you.”

His fingers froze on Shepard’s skin.  “Okay.”

There was no easy way to say it, so he just blurted.  “I’m graduating out of the program.”

Their chests were still pressed together, and Kaidan’s rise and fall abruptly stopped.

“But you still have a few months…”

Shepard leaned down and brushed his nose against Kaidan’s.  “I made… ‘unexpectedly accelerated’ progress.

Kaidan put his hands on Shepard’s shoulders, pushing gently and scooting himself backwards.  He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest.  “Because I tutored you.”

“Yeah.  Kind of ironic, isn’t it?”  He tried for a wry grin.  Kaidan looked away.  “We – we can stay in touch.  You have my ‘tool ID.  It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.”

“Really?”  Finally, he turned back to meet Shepard’s eyes.  “You’re in the Alliance.  You’re going to be stationed on ships all over the galaxy.  And I’m… just going to be here, doing what I always have.  Fixing omni-tools and cleaning amps.”

Shepard reached out to grab Kaidan’s forearm.  “I’m not going to – ”

“No, wait.  This is… this is coming out wrong.  I’m happy for you, John.  I don’t want you to go, but this is going to be good for you.  For your career.”

“I’m not going to forget about you.”

“You’re not going to have a lot of time to remember.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  His thumb was rubbing circles into Kaidan’s arm.

“Look, I don’t… we always knew that we weren’t going to have forever here, right?  I guess it’s just happening sooner than I expected.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Kaidan stared at him for a few seconds of eternity.  “Are we together?”

“I – ” Shepard felt his neck heat up.  Shit, weren’t they?  He laughed awkwardly.  “Well, I haven’t been bringing anybody else up here.”

“That’s not what I – I’ve never… I mean, not _really_ …”

“Yeah.  Me neither.  And, Kaidan... look, I don’t _want_ to end this.”

Kaidan shook his head.  “I think we need to.  Not now, I mean, we can keep doing this… I want to keep doing this until you leave.  Make the most of it.  But I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not – ”

“No, look.  It’s harder than you think it is.  Just – when are you leaving?”

Now Shepard had to look away, staring out at the stars, asking them to make it easier.  He never understood, really, just how something so hot could be so cold.

“A week.”

“A week – !”

“I’m sorry.  I just found out today, they want me out there as soon as possible.”  He turned back to search Kaidan’s eyes, hurt and confused and lost.  _Please understand_.

“ _John_ ,” he whispered, and uncurled from himself, straddling Shepard’s thighs and pushing him down.  His back hit the ledge and then Kaidan blocked out the stars with his body and his lips and his fingers, and tonight – tonight was desperate.

*            *            *

“Is that why you asked me what I’m going to do?”

“Yeah.”

They were sitting on the catwalk in the gymnasium, legs dangling over the edge, floating a 20-pound medicine ball a few feet in front of them over empty air and passing it gently between them.

“What do you think I should do?”

“…whatever you want to do.  But like I said, you’re a great teacher.”

“I’ve been thinking about enlisting.”

Shepard glanced at him sharply out of the corner of his eye.  “You’d be a great soldier, too.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, John.”

“No, I mean it.  I… I think you’d be great at anything you wanted to do.  You’re so smart.  Your control over your biotics is just… I mean, wow, but – but you don’t even have to do something with them if you don’t want to.  You could do anything.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t enlist?”

“No!  No.  But I’d… worry about you.”

“Me?  With my amazing biotics and brilliant mind?”

Shepard bit his lip, focusing on keeping the ball in the air.  “Yes.”

“Do you think I’m not going to worry about you?”

“But I don’t matter.”

The ball froze mid-air, Kaidan holding it still.  “Don’t ever say that.  You matter to me.  You matter so goddamn much.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything, just catching the ball when Kaidan passed it back to him, tracing lazy patterns in the air and remembering the first time he’d walked this path.  The first time he’d seen the boy in the janitor uniform playing the training balls like a symphony, and all the tutoring sessions, the hacky-sack that he still carried with him most days, and now…

A sweet peck on the cheek startled him.  He turned his head into Kaidan’s, and sweet turned into smoky as Kaidan’s lips lingered on his skin, nose brushing his temple, teeth tugging at his earlobe.  He breathed shakily, groaning on the exhale.

“You know, I think you have pretty impressive control over your biotics too.  But… I think we might need to test that.”

“Yeah?”  He managed to pass the ball back to Kaidan, though it was wavering a bit by the time the other biotic caught it.

“Mm.”

Kaidan’s hand slid over Shepard’s trousers, cupping him for a moment and waiting, then unbuttoning the fly, sliding his hand in and – _oh_ , fuck, this was sudden –

“Kaidan, are you sure you want to do this – I mean, not that I’m protestin _nnng_ – ”

“My hand would not be where it is if I wasn’t sure.  And John?”

Shepard whimpered.

“Keep the ball in the air.”

He looked up barely in time to catch it as Kaidan passed it to him, and then he had to focus all his concentration on it as Kaidan stroked him roughly, still kissing his ear, neck, jaw…

If he had been in any position to care, he would have been embarrassed at how quickly he had to admit defeat and lower the ball to the ground.  But when Kaidan pulled him down, whispering in his ear and making his mind fuzz out with need, well… the injury to his pride was worth it.

*            *            *

Shepard left two days later.  There was a ceremony and everything; he’d been bumped up, along with a few other members of his cohort, to graduate with the class ahead of them.  They gave him a certificate and a uniform, a rank and a posting, and then he was going, shuttled down the corridors with his classmates, professors applauding them, Cassie winking and waving from the sidelines.

He looked for honey-brown eyes and dark hair and almost didn’t see him, near the end, standing by the wall.

“Hang on – excuse me – sorry – ”  Shepard ducked out of the informal procession and pushed his way back through the crowd of people.

For a moment, Kaidan just looked at him, almost blankly.  They’d already said their goodbyes the night before.

_“I’m going to miss you,” Shepard murmured in his ear, fingers playing with a few loose strands of his hair._

_“I know.  I’m going to miss you too.  You’ve helped me a lot, John.  More… more than I can really say.  Thank you.”_

_“Hey, right – ” He cleared his throat. “Right back at you.  …Kaidan, I – if I’m leaving, I need to tell you.  I want to tell you.  I’ve never – I mean, I’m not sure, but I want you to know.  I think I lo – ”_

_Kaidan’s mouth covered his suddenly, cutting him off.  “Don’t say it,” he said fiercely against Shepard’s lips.  “Just – don’t say it.”_

_So he didn’t say it.  But Kaidan knew, and that was enough._

And now, staring at each other with dozens of people around them, Kaidan held out his hand.  Shepard shook, keeping his face carefully neutral.

“Congratulations, Shepard.  See you around.”

“See you around, K.”

The airlock hissed as it closed, and Shepard didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an epilogue is coming, don't worry :3


	8. Epilogue, 2183

“Did you get a chance to look over your crew roster, Commander?”

Shepard shot Anderson a sheepish grin as they walked up the gangway and waited for the Normandy’s airlock to cycle through.

“You know how it is, Captain.  So much shooting to do, so little time.”

“And _no_ time for getting to know your new crew?”  Anderson was smiling while he said it, so Shepard figured he was still okay.

“I’ll make time!  I just prefer doing it face-to-face.”

“Uh-huh.”  The decontamination cycle finished, and the doors slid open.  “Let’s make the rounds.  Pilot should be here soon; he had some bureaucratic red tape to get through.  I think our head of marine detail showed up early, though.  I’ll introduce you.”

The Normandy was small, sleek and beautiful and deadly.  He loved her from the minute he set foot on her.  A few crewmembers darted around the CIC, calibrating and adjusting, and Shepard slowed down to take in the galaxy map, sparkling like the stars themselves.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“That she is, sir.  That she is.”

They went down a narrow stairway and rounded the corner into the mess.

“There’s the medbay.  And – ah, there he is.”  Anderson beckoned him over to a small console by the wall.

A dark-haired man was bent low working on it, hands streaked with grease as the console sparked obstinately, muscles in his arms working as his fingers flew between the keys on the display and the tools he held in his other hand.  Shepard’s heart thudded hard, _it couldn’t be –_

“Commander Shepard, Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko.”

He looked up then, clear amber eyes meeting Shepard’s, laughter dancing in them and a smile tugging at his lips as time slowed and stretched like warm caramel.  By the time he’d straightened up and snapped into a salute, the smile was gone, face professionally blank, and Shepard breathed again.

“Sir!”

“At ease, Lieutenant.”  Anderson waved his hand, turning back to Shepard.  “He’s a Sentinel.  One hell of a biotic, and a whiz with tech.  I’ve got to go see if Hackett’s been in touch, then we’ll check in on the cockpit, see if we can’t get this bird flying.  Excuse me, gentlemen.”

They fired off salutes in unison as Anderson left, holding the position until he’d rounded the corner.

Shepard turned to look at Kaidan, _really_ look at him.  He had aged well, filled out his slim frame into lean powerful muscles.  There were lines at the corners of his eyes, and he moved with more confidence than he had all those years ago.

And he was smiling at Shepard.  Warm, happy, irresistible – just as always.  Shepard grinned back.

“So, K.  What’s a biotic like you doing in a place like this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading!! this story has become very precious to me as i've been writing it, and it means so much to me that so many of you seem to like it as well. i'm so sorry for the long hiatus i took for a while there, but i hope the wait was worth it for you. <3


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